


tapestry of skin

by bubblewrapstargirl



Series: woven upon the loom of fate [4]
Category: Castlevania (TV), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Alchemy, Canon-Typical Violence, Forgemastery, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Injury Recovery, Non-Sexual Slavery, Possibly Pre-Slash, Post-Season/Series 02, Season 3 Speculation, Trevor/Sypha is Implied and Off-Screen, rated for themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 12:49:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16873221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubblewrapstargirl/pseuds/bubblewrapstargirl
Summary: (Set immediately Post-Season 2) Alone in his father's castle, Alucard begins the arduous task of restoring it to its former glory. In the Forges, he comes across a curious creature: a forged animal that retains its original personality. Nothing more than a loyal pet, which would have been no use to his father's forces. Curious about what kind of a Forgemaster could have created such a thing, Alucard uses his father's mirror to find out.In doing so, he witnesses Carmilla's abuse of a clever, talented human alchemist, and finds the mission he set out to complete with Trevor and Sypha - to stop the torture of humans by his kind - is not yet done.ON HIATUS WHILE I WORK ON MY NOVEL





	1. Chapter 1

Alucard remained in his father's chair until long after the sun had set. The castle was near-silent. He was not accustomed to such quiet. Trevor and Sypha had been loud companions, even when they did not intend to be. He was a dhampir, after all. Underneath the susurrus murmurings of their breathing, was the accompanying symphony of sweet blood rushing through their veins, keeping time with the steady drumbeats of their hearts. A dhampir could not reduce the strength of their hearing any more than a human could forcefully weaken their sight or sense of smell by will alone. Alucard was unable to lose track of a living being, even if he wished to. Vampires and other dhampir were harder to detect; naturally cloaked to make them deadly to their own kind, as well as every other species. No predator desired to be immediately detected by their rival hunters, after all.

In the stillness of the night, his ears automatically strained to hear the engines of industry; the flicker of fireplaces, the tinkle of glass as his mother worked with her chemicals. The scratch of his father's quill upon parchment. But all he heard was the creaking of splintered wood, fracturing further under the weight of rubble or piles of tossed books. It was a monumental task, restoring the castle by himself. His magic abilities were not conducive to building. It would be interesting discipline to learn.

Alone in the dark, the lone scion of the House of Tepes curled into himself, and willed himself to sleep.

*

Alucard had never spent much time in the Forges. Vampires could not wield such powers; their mastery over life and death was of the more literal, personal kind. They used teeth and claw to grant eternal life, or else rend it from the earth in a bloody scourge. But Alucard needed to survey the foundations of each level of the castle, to ensure there was no deep structural damage. It would be useless to heal superficial fractures in the walkways above, if an entire wing collapsed due to dangers below.

So he made his way through each level with an empty book in his hand, noting the most urgent issues to deal with, to prioritise into a list at a later date. His sorrows hovered over him like a thick cloud of fog, and if he slowed down, even just for a moment, they would smother him. He had no desire to slip into self-piteous apathy, as Belmont had. Alucard did not blame the man for being unable to process his grief. Being a child with no one to turn to, Trevor Belmont had been alone in an indifferent world which shunned his pain. No wonder he had cloaked himself in barbs, to protect himself. But Alucard was a man grown when his parents died. He was not prepared to wallow, when there was work to be done.

The Forges seemed largely undamaged, but he made a thorough study of the rooms, regardless. He could not deny his curiosity. He wondered what tomes of knowledge might be found in the Belmont collection, on the Forging of night creatures. No doubt Sypha would be able to turn her hand to alchemy, if Speaker magic permitted such transmutation of elements. She wielded elemental magic, much as vampires did, but she was human. She would be capable of learning, if she wished to.

In the largest of his father's Devil Forges, a Forgemaster's hammer lay abandoned on a bloody steel table. Alucard lifted it into his hands, hefting the weight easily. It was made from some metal alloy, though he could not tell the composition exactly, without further study.

"I wonder if my human side would be strong enough to allow me to learn such things," he mused idly.

His mother had spurned the use of magics, and he could not blame her for her distaste. The Church had madly denounced all forms, claiming the spiritual arts all stemmed from the Devil. Though it was true that many magical abilities could be traced to dark forces, there were many different sources. Natural magic, the gentle forces of the earth, wind and water wielded by mages, for example, had no connection whatsoever with devilry. They drew their power from the sun.

"As usual, the most corrupt humans prevent the spread of doctrine that conflicts with their own dogma." Alucard murmured, replacing the Forge hammer upon the table.

He could only hope that Trevor and Sypha's mission to stem the corruption of the Church's representatives would be successful. Kindly leaders were required in all walks of society, if humans were ever to achieve a measure of peace in their communities.

A shuffle caught his attention. Immediately on his guard, Alucard scanned the shadows, expecting to see a rat, or perhaps a pigeon. Many of them had scurried into the crevices. To his surprise, a small Forge creature emerged from the shadows. It was a dog, with one bright blue eye, characteristic of transmuted animals. The space where its other eye should be was a skeletal hole. Three of its legs retained their flesh and fur, but its front right leg and paw was entirely exposed bone.

Alucard frowned, but widened his stance, prepared to tackle and fight the monster. But the small dog merely yipped, the noise muffled by a rib bone in its tiny mouth. It approached him cautiously, to begin snuffling about his foot. Alucard stared in no little surprise at the benign creature, as it apparently found him satisfactory. The little dog sat on its haunches, dropping the bone at his foot, mimicking the panting stance of a pet, waiting to be indulged in a game. Little paws hung in the air, eagerly awaiting his attention.

Not quite convinced that the tiny monster would not take a swipe at him, Alucard slowly knelt into a crouch. The little dog wavered, obviously waiting for him to reach for the bone. Alucard kept his hands safely to himself, assessing the creature with narrowed eyes. He had never come across a Devil Forged creature that was not imbibed with its master's will to destroy.

"Of all the creatures I expected to confront in this castle, you I could not anticipate," he said, "Where did you come from, little thing?"

The dog could not tell him. It butted its half-decayed head gently against Alucard's knee.

"You truly wish me no harm," realised the dhampir.

Cautiously, he lifted the rib-bone. It smelt like it came from a pig. Artfully arching his shoulder back, he threw the bone into the shadowy recesses of the room.

Delighted, the small undead dog raced after his prize. A Forgemaster in his father's employ had made this creature, pouring his intention into it. Forged creatures followed their master's will at the time they were created. If the alchemist Forgemaster which had made it had wanted a guard-dog, he would have poured a strong will to defend and protect into it. Instead, he had Forged a creature with a playful nature. The dog came racing back with the bone, scurrying to where Alucard remained stationary kneeling the dusty room.

Despite his determination to lay the war to rest, Alucard could not help but be curious. What manner of human had been willing to Forge night creatures for Dracula to destroy his enemies with... as well as restore this sweet little creature, which only wished to please, back to life?


	2. Chapter 2

Hector strained against the metal collar at his throat. Even the most intolerable humans he had met had never countenanced slavery. It was the remit of ancient heathen communities, those with no regard for the sanctity of life. Perhaps it was a fitting punishment for him then. Hector, a human who had turned his back on his kind, fully prepared to lead them into enslavement by his fellow generals.

He had advocated for humans to be penned in as livestock, dumb creatures to be raised for the slaughter. Deep in his heart, he knew he was being punished for his inhumane beliefs. Still, it was galling to be treated as a _thing_ , not a sentient creature. Carmilla barely let him clean himself, let alone tend the wounds she had inflicted on him. It was only when he reminded her that he could not Forge for her if he died of poisoned blood that she relented, and allowed him medicine to stave off infection.

Thankfully, he did not lose his swollen eye. In the bowels of her dungeon, Hector quickly learned that Carmilla would only allow him the bare minimum to survive. He had been such a fool to believe he could trust her. After she had revealed she wanted control, Hector knew he should have destroyed the priest he had reanimated in the Forges for her. Then she would not have been able to advance with her plan, and he could have convinced some other vampire general to protect him from her wrath. But he had gone along with her plan, regardless of her revealing her duplicitous nature. Even going so far as to watch over the vampires as they slept in the partially destroyed town once the castle had been dragged away by magic. He had one opportunity to flee while they slept, before she chained him, and he had not taken it.

Hector cursed himself for a fool all the way back to her territory, but there was little he could do to escape. He was injured and without the tools of his trade. None of the vampires were men he knew; they were loyal to their mistress, and had no reason to sympathise with his plight. Hector was a bag of blood, and nothing more, to them.

"Avoiding human communities, I never taught myself the wiley ways of courtly intrigue," Hector lamented quietly to his latest creature, "But I am not without wits entire. Arise, and keep my faith, until there are more of you. When the time is right, we will strike."

Carmilla kept a shard of her mirror in the Forge she had chained him in. It was wide enough to reach her sharp talons through, to swipe and bat at him when she felt the urge, as a cat would with a mouse.

 _Playful_ , Hector had called the taunting of mice once. Now he understood what Isaac meant, when the other Forgemaster scorned his assessment of the situation. Carmilla was the very definition of merciless. She would toy with him until she grew bored, and then she would eviscerate him. But Hector intended to stake her through the heart before he allowed such a thing to pass.

"I may have walked passively into this trap like a docile lamb," he whispered, as he hefted the large, ugly Forge hammer she had forced upon him, "But I will not remained penned here forever."

His latest night creature screeched, taking flight, batting out of the room in a staggering gust of wind. Hector grimaced, jealously watching the beast as it escaped the dank room. Soon enough, he would follow its progress; back out into the light of the sun.

*

Alucard had succeeded in his first task of assessing the damage. The small dog followed him about his work, and he was grateful for the company. He had not realised how accustomed he had grown to the chatter of humans until Trevor and Sypha had taken to the road. He wondered how long it would be until he received word from them. They had promised to write, and he did not doubt Sypha would keep to her word.

None of the foundations were in dire need of much work, which was excellent, as Alucard had not yet found a book on repairing thick stonework amongst his father's collection. The walkways between wings had not fared so well. Their fight had damaged three bridges deeply.

The little dog remained at his feet as Alucard lashed ropes around the worst of the damage. It was a temporary measure. He would have to use chains and cement to repair it properly at a later date. He couldn't deny he was distracted from his work by the Forged creature. His thoughts were consumed by the mysterious Forgemaster who had created it. Was it possible the man yet lived? They had found no human bodies amongst the dead they had cleared out together, before his former companions left. They had buried the bodies of slain night creatures (and the ashes of vampires) in the woods yonder, so they would not stink up the castle, and attract scavengers.

Eventually Alucard found he could no longer stand the lack of answers for his many questions, regarding the animal which had decided to attach itself to him. There was no harm in using his father's mirror to seek out the Forgemaster. If he did not manifest in the reflection of the glass, then he no longer lived. And Alucard could lay the matter, even unsatisfactorily, to rest. And if he lived... well, he was not yet sure what his opinion on such a human would be.

Determined not to be dominated by his idle desires, Alucard waited for his daily work to be completed before he ventured to sate his curiosity. He approached his father's study with some trepidation. The ghost of his sire was hovering just out of sight, in every corner of this room. The books and academic papers were saturated with Dracula's presence. If Alucard was ever to make this room bearable to be in, it would need to be entirely re-decorated. But until he could spare the time, he focused on his self-appointed tasks.

Summoning his will, he commanded the shards of the mirror to rise and reform, forcing them to flow fluidly from deadly lone pieces, into one shimmering whole, undulating slowly in mid-air. Carefully touching the glassy surface, Alucard forced his dull human fingernails to sharpen into vampiric claws, scratching runes into the magical substance.

At once, the mirror began to ripple. His own reflection dimming and disappearing, as indistinct colours and shapes reformed to a window into another place in the world. Alucard saw a bleak, dank stone room, which was brightened to daylight levels with unnatural blue light. It was the flowing, raw magic of a Forgemaster. Facing away from him was a man, wielding the hammer of his art, surrounded by the magic, as it tugged at his ragged clothing and lank, greasy hair.

**Author's Note:**

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